Locker Room Revenge
by LxISxAxBABE
Summary: Francis Bonnefoy just wanted to go home after a tough day in the IFL... so how did that end up as a threesome in a showerstall? Read and find out, since this summary sucks. FrancexGermanyxAmerica yaoi! Sequel to Weight Room Brawlin'.


So yeah. I've been a bit slow with posting and uploading and writing... summer reading and all the fun things of school get in the way of everything... But I finally got up the energy to post this. I wrote this after _Weight Room Brawlin'_, and it's a sequel in a sense. If you've read the first, there should be no confusion. Otherwise, I'm sorry! Read the other one to clean stuffs up!

Disclaimer: I = doesn't own Hetalia. I only own the strange playground I call my mind and whatever comes out of it. I'm sorry; it doesn't always stay tucked away safely, and you all get to see the result! Mwa ha ha ha ha ha~! Hetalia did not come out of that playground.

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><p>With a sigh, I peeled my shirt off on the way to the locker room. Today was a rough day, I groaned inwardly, Coach was really pushing us. I ran my fingers though my hair and scowled at the sweat and filth in it. I don't think I could bear waiting until I got home… I would die of disgust. The door was open to the locker room, so I didn't have to deal with fighting it open. We kept telling Coach that it was broken, but he didn't care.<p>

"Tough it out," he always said. No one wanted to be first to the locker room because of that. You looked like a fool, trying to pull the latch, shoving the door in, and yanking on it in succession.

The familiar funk of the locker room assailed my nostrils, but I tried to pay no heed. It was a men's locker room. There would forever be the stench of sweat, body odor, seven different body sprays and colognes, any powder a guy was willing to bring, blood, all forms of bodily waste, and rust. It was a _delightful_ stench, something you praised with bitter sarcasm and cold laughter. Not even the cleaning staff dared enter, and so if some guy thought he'd be funny and piss on the floor, it was there until he mopped it up himself.

What a _charming_ place, I mused. I meandered to my locker and opened it. My nice, pressed clothes were folded up on the top shelf, a towel hung from one of the hooks inside it, and my athletic bag sat in a heap at the bottom. I was going to take a quick shower here, I decided, then fully 'degrease' myself at home.

I grabbed the towel and stripped down to my briefs. No one minded. I mean, we were all old enough to have seen a penis before and mature enough not to throw a tantrum about it. I hoped. Then I searched for an empty shower stall.

When I say shower stall, I'm giving it too much credit. Whoever designed this place was aiming for a cheap budget. It was a massive square, with twelve columns connected by metal rods. In the middle, the two columns there had four showerhead each. So, theoretically, two stalls had two showerheads. But they had divided the double showerhead stalls in half, so we had 4 tiny shower stalls. Each stall was divided from the other with a flimsy curtain. Any soap or shampoo you brought in with you had to be set on the floor. That was just the way of the IFL, I guess.

I would just have to take a nice bath when I got home, I thought with a slight smile. Because unlike the others, I actually had money. I laughed at their plain lives- I lived like a king compared to them. But I digress.

I turned on the showerhead, and a rush of cool water gushed out. It was always cold- there was no hot water in the IFL, Coach said- so you grit your teeth and tried to hurry through your showers on the cold days. On a hot day, though, it was a blessing, and you hogged the water just to touch relaxation and cool refreshment.

Today was a hot day, unbearably so, so I peeled off my final layer and leapt right in. The almost icy water splashed onto my chest and down my stomach with a wave of relief. I sighed audibly, uncaring if the others heard me, and I put my head under the low showerhead.

"Francis." Always when I'm getting comfortable… I lifted my head and turned.

"_Oui, mon cher_?" Alfred made a face.

"Don't call me that; it's creepy," he near-whined. I positioned myself so the water was still hitting me.

"What would you like, seeing as it's so pressing that you would reaffirm your _oh-so-secret_ orientation?" Alfred gave me a slightly confused look. He didn't understand any word longer than 5 letters, unless it was 'hamburger' and its variants. I sighed and rolled my eyes playfully. Even if he understood, he might not understand. After all, I don't think he realized that I remember the incident in the weight room.

"What do you want, Alfred?" I said, folding my arms. He shifted back and forth, not a nervous habit, but a habit born out of hyperactivity.

"Coach was looking for you… and Ludwig, but they said that if you were already getting ready for home, it can wait." I groaned inwardly. _That means it can't. _Merde….

"Hand me my jersey and shorts," I groaned, shutting off the water. I toweled myself off slightly and took my shirt from his outstretched hand. I pulled it on, ignoring the drips of water onto my shoulders from my wet hair, and reached for my pants.

"No boxers?" he asked, and I snatched the black shorts from his hand.

"I don't have time to pull them on," I said, pulling the soft material up my damp thighs. Shaking off my wet feet, I stepped onto the tile.

"We'll talk later, _cher_," I said with a wink. When he flushed furiously, I grinned. "I'll be back." I flipped my dripping hair and swaggered away.

It was a well known fact that I was definitely not as straight as I should be. In fact, I had flings with a few of the other boys here. I wasn't gay, I wasn't straight, I was… somewhere in between. Experimenting. Not sure if I was affiliated with anything. If they were attractive, who cared if they were a man or a woman? I just couldn't associate with any specific group.

Right now, the coaches and players I hadn't fooled around with considered me metrosexual. Whatever.

I knocked on Coach's door.

"Who is it?" that familiar gruff voice.

"Francis Bonnefoy, coach. You called for me?"

"Come in." I opened the door. Coach was parked at his desk, in his crisp suit and his stern expression. He always like he was going to a formal event, even after practice. Just like our captain, parked right beside him. Ludwig. Successor to his elder brother (who just happened to be one of my favorites late night go-to-boys), Gilbert. His hair was already gelled into place again, as if he hadn't spent five hours outside pushing pallets and running suicides. He was already dressed in his uniform, buttoned up to his throat.

I didn't pay attention to anything Coach said. I just agreed and nodded, like the good running-back I was. Ludwig stared me down the entire time. I chuckled inwardly. He remembers. He remembers how I called him out and tried to pull him out of that closet he was hiding in. And now he's miffed and doesn't like me, poor baby.

"Alright, I'll let you go." Coach looked like a stone idol at his desk, his hands folded and his back ramrod straight. I stood up and bowed my head, according to IFL customs.

"Thanks, Coach. I'll see you in the morning." He nodded gruffly.

"You'd best, Bonnefoy." I turned and began to exit, and I assume it was Ludwig who got up. I could hear those German dress shoes tapping away behind me as he followed me out. I pretended not to notice him as I walked back to the locker room, back to the cold shower and back to almost home-ness. I ran my fingers through my hand slowly, despite its being soaked. I didn't glance back; I already knew he was staring at me, boring holes in the back of my head with those enrapturing electric eyes. It was surprising; he was determined. Maybe he wanted to 'beat some sense into me'? Maybe he was going to lecture me. I was unconcerned.

I walked through the open door and ambled to my locker. That is, I tried to.

"Francis." I turned.

"_Oui, mon beau_?" His cold stare didn't falter. He stepped forward, and one of those massive paws clamped around my bicep.

"Come with me."

"I would rather head home, _cher_," I said sweetly, "Couldn't this wait?" In response, he yanked me toward the far side of the locker room, the side near the weight room and temporary rehab center.

He was growling at me in German, and though I had no idea what he was saying, I knew it wasn't good. I pretended not to be fazed.

"_Mon beau allemagne_, I really ought to be returning home. I promised your brother I would be up for a night out." I near-purred this; he had learned recently that his brother came out, and it bothered him to no end. Closet homosexuals are usually the biggest discriminators, I mused darkly. He slammed me into one of the walls.

"Don't talk about that," he hissed. I grinned.

"Why? Too coward to admit that you're just like him?" Alfred and I were friends. Though he may not have admitted it aloud, he had told his previous _amant_, and I _always_ learn about that sort of thing. He pushed me harder, and I felt the drywall begin to rub off on my wet shirt.

Why was he even doing this? I wondered, and I asked him. He suddenly stopped, as if awakening.

"Why?" he repeated me slowly. I could easily outrun him; but that wouldn't fix this. I stepped forward.

"I think," I began, reaching for him, but he jerked away, "You can't find happiness because you won't accept yourself." And after being so sage and wise, I chose the dick route. "Why don't you let me help you, _mon petit chouchou_?" He shoved me back.

"Back off."

"Does it bother you?" I whispered, caressing his cheek briefly, "That I'm so free, and you restrict yourself? I could give you _real_ pleasure." Alright, now I was just teasing him. Again, I was taking the dick route. I admit, he was gorgeous. But stuck-up football tool was not my type.

I guess Alfred made him loose. Or maybe I was just that gorgeous. Not that a locker room has a heady, lusty air. But as soon as I had gotten away from the wall, I was against it again, chapped lips crushed against mine. I groaned as he pressed his body against mine.

"Mmm… impatient, are we?" I whispered, and he made a disgusted sound.

"I hate you… fucking French bitch." Now this was a new side of him I had never seen. I wasn't sure whether I liked his stoicism or this.

"Is that racism I hear?" I responded instead. He bit down on my lower lip and I cried out softly.

"I don't know what my _bruder_ sees in you," he growled, "You don't seem like anything special." So he was jealous of Gilbert. I nuzzled his cheek and began to pepper kisses on the corner of his mouth.

"That's because you haven't seen anything yet," I whispered.

"Guys...?" I glanced up.

"Alfred? Care to join?" I asked mockingly. Ludwig was already backing off, flushed. Actually, in all honesty, I was the only one who wasn't blushing.

"What were you…" Ludwig lowered his head and tried to hurry away, but I caught his arm.

"Where are you going, _mon cher_? You were so into it before our friend arrived…" He tried to pull away, so I swept up to him and curled my arms around him. "Don't you want to see what your brother gets to enjoy?"

"Get off me," he hissed. I leaned in and kissed his lips slowly, smiling.

"You wanted it so much before… don't tell me you're going to leave me hanging…" I could feel Alfred staring, his mouth gaping, and I glanced toward him. "Do you want to join?" He stepped forward, flushed, and without releasing Ludwig from my vice-grip, I leaned out for a wet kiss.

"This… this isn't right…" he whispered.

"How so?" I asked, leaning back to nuzzle Ludwig again. "It's just pent-up desire, _non_?" I could feel Ludwig's flush, and I kissed him again.

"What? Embarrassed that you got caught?" I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, "Because now you can't pretend you're straight anymore?" He turned and bit me, latching on my lip hard enough to draw blood. His teeth sunk in before he pulled away. He swore in German, and I leaned in for another, bloodier kiss.

"Whore," he hissed.

"No," I replied, "Deprived." Blood began to trickle down my chin, but Ludwig didn't seem to notice.

Alfred did. I yelped as he grabbed me by the hair and pulled me into a rough kiss. His tongue ran down my chin and he slurped up the crimson liquid hungrily.

_Damn, didn't know he was so kinky_, I groaned. He actually pulled me from Ludwig and into a deep kiss.

"Mm… Alfred, I thought you were straight…" I murmured, as he began to kiss and nip at my jaw line.

"I did too," was his response.

I thought Ludwig would leave. He had the perfect opportunity, and no one would know about this. Instead, I felt him worshipping the other side of my neck with blood-stained lips. His tongue slipped out and massaged the cords of my neck eagerly.

"Let's move this somewhere more private," I suggested, and Alfred made a soft, affirmative noise. Ludwig snorted but said nothing.

That's how we ended up back in the shower stall I had been using a bit before. Alfred pushed me against the showerhead column, assailing my throat with teeth and tongue and lips. I reached back and turned on the water, and Alfred gasped as icy water began to pour onto him. Ludwig watched at a distance, like a voyeur, his eyes shifting over our wet, clothed bodies.

"Alfie," I cooed, "Let me take off your clothes." In an instant, he was fighting with my shorts without pulling away from my neck. I chuckled softly and slipped my hands into his pants and boxers. He gasped softly as I squeezed his ass. Ludwig's eyes had followed my hands, now locked on the 'toy' he had played with almost a month ago.

I slipped his pants down, exposing those hard, muscled globes that football had given him. Mine were already down at my ankles, so after I bared him, I kicked my pants off and groaned.

"Let me pleasure you too," I crooned. He pulled away, his lips stained with blood, and placed a tender kiss on my lips.

"No," he finally said, and he grabbed my shirt and ripped it open. I pressed my chest upward, whining. His lithe fingers slipped over my chest and teased my pert nipples.

"Do you like that?" he hissed. I whimpered, nodding. I knew what he liked. What pretty much every football player liked. _Submission_. He kissed me roughly, and I found myself in the air, my legs wrapped around his hips and my arms around his neck. I felt his hard erection pressing upward against the crease of my thighs, and I ground down.

"Mmm…" Alfred groaned, pressing against me. Ludwig was at his back, suckling at the junction of his neck and shoulders. He glanced up at me, his eyes hard but hazy with lust. "Ohh…. Mmmhmmm…." Alfred was bucking up against me, sending tremors up my spine.

The water was flowing between our bodies, ice cold now, and it was an almost painful contrast to our feverish skin.

"Let's leave out this silly foreplay," I suggested, gyrating my hips against him and earning a heated sound, "And get to the real fun." He adjusted me in his grip, supporting me with one arm as he soaked the other in the icy water.

"I have lotion in my bag," I whispered, leaning down to ghost feathery kisses across his forehead. Ludwig was gone, and Alfred glanced back for a moment and curled his other arm around my back. I giggled softly.

"He doesn't like me… but I _really_ like you, Alfie." I don't think he realized I was only pretending to be a ditz, to upset our captain, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Oh, really?" he whispered playfully, lapping up some blood that was dripping from my lip again. I nodded, kissing him again. I tasted my blood on his tongue, thick and coppery.

Suddenly, he gasped and groaned, thrusting against my lower hips. Ludwig was back, kissing Alfred's shoulder and neck, his shoulder shifting back and forth. I understood within seconds, smiling lightly; he had his fingers shoved up Alfred's ass, stretching him. I kissed the young American wetly, feeling more blood smear between our lips and dribble down our chins. He groaned noisily into my mouth, but I swallowed the sound and distracted his tongue with mine.

Alfred screamed, pressing into me, his body molded against mine. Ludwig chuckled and pulled his arm back.

"Alfred, you can tough it out. Don't be a girl." Alfred nodded, and I assaulted his neck and left crimson stains.

"I figure you like it rough," I whispered against his skin, "I can take it if you want. I can handle _anything_." Alfred moaned breathily.

"Oh, God…" I reached down and stroked his dripping need. He groaned. "_God_…" I released his neck and reached down with my other hand, leaning forward to support myself. My fingers were hot against my skin as I parted my thighs. My other hand guided his head toward my entrance, and I groaned softly as he probed it.

Just as he pushed in, Ludwig thrust in as well, and he sent Alfred in deeper than he would have. I bit my lip fiercely and moaned, feeling hot tears.

No one waited. We were men. We were athletes, chosen bv the Board of Athletics. Pain was _nothing_. I grabbed Alfred's shoulders and dug my fingers in as he jerked up into me. Ludwig slammed into him roughly, forcing him into me, deeper, deeper-

My nails broke skin as he slammed into my prostate.

"Ohhhhh-hhhh~!" I was crying out in French now, rocking my hips in sync with my new lover's. I leaned forward, over Alfred, and crushed my lips to Ludwig's. He moaned and tongue-fucked me in time with his thrusts. I had since stopped bleeding, but the water was carrying dried blood down my face and mixing it on wet skin.

The water running down our bodies mixed with sweat and created a lube on our skin. I tightened my knees around Alfred and rode him, breaking my liplock with Ludwig and letting my head loll against Alfred's shoulder. "Ohh… ohh… A-Alfred…" I moaned into his ear, breathy, panting, "Annh… s-so close…" I could feel my climax racing toward me, deliciously, painfully close, and I picked up the pace on my end, slamming back faster, harder. Ludwig either got the idea or was nearing his own completion because at that point, we were assaulting Alfred on both ends.

"Ohh~! Ohh~! A-Alfred~!" I arched my back, my nails breaking skin as I screamed out my climax. Everything went white for a bit, and I touched a bit of heaven. My forehead rested on Alfred's shoulder as he finished up inside me. He made a soft sound as Ludwig assumably finished.

I groaned as Alfred's softening member slid out of me.

"_Merde_…" He set me down on tired legs and I leaned against the shower-column as he composed himself. I watched Ludwig flee, wiping himself down before walking away, and all I could do was chuckle.

"What…?" Alfred asked breathlessly.

"Nothing, _mon cher_," I said liltingly, forcing myself up so I could curl my arms around his neck. "Let's clean up a bit, hmm?" He nodded and instead of washing his self like I was so used to, he began to clean _me_ up. I smiled almost dopily at the affection; after all, he made me feel a little loved.

"Does… does this mean I'm bent?" he asked softly, washing the backs of my thighs slowly. His hands paused for a moment, frozen. When I shook my head, he silently sighed with relief and resumed.

"You're just experimenting," I said softly. That's what I told _myself_, anyway. He drew me to his chest in a close embrace, nuzzling his head in the crook of my shoulder and neck. I put my arms around his neck and smiled, resting my forehead against one strong shoulder. But his reaction bothered me, and I didn't know why.

"Why? Would you hate yourself if you were gay?" I asked softly, and he started against my body. Then he was silent.

"I… I don't know." I think I deflated a bit; but why? I wasn't gay. At most, I was bisexual. Right?

Another minute of standing under the icy water and Alfred released me.

"I need to be getting home. My bro will be upset if I'm too late. It was nice… talking, Francis." I smiled softly.

"I hope we can have another chat soon, _mon beau_." He nodded and left, and I dried and dressed, heading for my home, for sanctity, for normalcy.

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><p>Coach summoned us after morning warm-up.<p>

"Anyone seen Ludwig?" One guy shook his head.

"No, sir."

"Hmmm…" He's probably ill. Gilbert knows better than to let him sleep in." Alfred and I shared a look.

"Alright, with Ludwig out…" he looked around, glancing at each of us. "Jones, you're in charge." Alfred lit up delightedly; I could tell, but I doubt anyone else saw the change in his near-expressionless countenance.

"Yes, sir." Then coach tossed out our orders to us and sent us out. Alfred turned to me as the other boys filed out.

"This means I'll be captain after Ludwig graduates," he said, his voice shaking with excitement. I nodded.

"Yeah. You brought down the reign of German leaders, _cher_." He smiled, and then he leaned forward and kissed me slowly. I could taste early-morning coffee on his tongue, not unpleasant at this hour, that and bagel. When he pulled away, he watched me pointedly.

"Then do you want to come to my place afterward for some extra practice?" he asked softly. I cocked a brow easily.

"Right after practice?"

"I wouldn't want it any other way." He grinned darkly, his eyes flashing behind his glasses.

I couldn't wait for practice to be over that day.

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><p>Sooooo... you like? You should leave a comment, review, <em>s'il te plait<em>? I'm not begging, btw. I don't beg. I'm too proud! *fist to chest and strike a pose~!* R&R, _mes beaux amies_~! Mwaaah~!


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